


Crepe Stands and Eggrolls

by Dlvvanzor, Living_In_a_Fantasy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Nice Sherlock, Rampaging Sherlock, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, hair petting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dlvvanzor/pseuds/Dlvvanzor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_In_a_Fantasy/pseuds/Living_In_a_Fantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John knows better than anyone that the best (only?) way to calm a rampaging, post-case Sherlock is to pet his hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crepe Stands and Eggrolls

They were out, after a case.  Sherlock was still thrumming with leftover energy and he'd refused to go back to the flat, and John had refused to leave the consulting four-year-old unattended when he was like this.  So, they were wandering the streets aimlessly.

"-was a great case," Sherlock ranted, "I mean truly great.  And I solved it, of course I did, but it wasn't easy and it might even have been a close thing, for a while I didn't think I would, or I thought I might not, because there was that dead end for a moment but luckily he killed someone else after that and created a new lead for me I mean us to follow and then we caught him right after that red handed _literally_ and it's good that we had a change of clothes because otherwise we would be roaming the streets of London covered in blood and that's a bit awkward even for me not that I haven't done it, took the tube with a harpoon you know no one would even get in the car with me."

"Yes," John said, wondering how Sherlock was able to not pass out from lack of oxygen, as he hadn't seemed to take a breath during the entire sentence. "Not walking around covered in blood is good." A woman passing them gave him a horrified look.

"Oh she thinks we're murderers but it's okay she's a thief so she won't go to the police.  Kleptomania is so unfortunate don't you think I mean really compulsively stealing would get in the way of so many better activities like sex do kleptomaniacs have time for sex well I imagine they get it in prison when they go there if they get caught do _we_ have time for sex or is it too late are you tired I'm really not tired at all."

"Maybe we should stop and get a nice cup of tea. Something herbal," John suggested.

"Tea!  Tea is amazing!  Fantastic!  Yes, tea is wonderful, but sex is wonderful too and catching kleptomaniacs and really I'm rather fond of being covered in blood as long as it isn't infected with something I think it looks rather flattering with my skin."

"That's...nice," he said, blinking at him.

  "Not that I would kill someone for aesthetics, of course, I'm not actually a psychopath although I have killed people I think I'm not always sure because often they get away but they might bleed out after that or something but it's always because they're attacking _me_ and I believe that's justified, you think so too right? because you've done the same thing I've seen it and you've done it for me too.  Do you want to have sex in that alley?"

John wasn't sure he'd heard that right. "Wait, what?"

"That alley right there, we could have sex in it, no one ever goes in there except drug dealers so it's a good place to have sex I'd think."

John patted Sherlock's shoulder lightly. "Not tonight, love."

"But you _love_ having sex in public," Sherlock whined.  Then he saw a crepe stand and took off in the direction of it.

An older couple had stopped walking to stare at him. He smiled nervously and followed after Sherlock, who was buying a strawberry crepe.  John supervised.

Sherlock remembered to pay and walked away with his crepe, humming a song to himself as he stuffed his face.  John guided him, as Sherlock wasn't paying much attention to where he was going. "Maybe we could take a seat while you're eating."

"Yerf, risht, shounds gud, shiting und erting is a grud combrinatin."

"Yes it is." John took Sherlock by the arm and led them to a nearby bench.

Sherlock sat on the bench, bouncing a little and finishing off his crepe, eagerly licking the remaining sauce off his fingers.  "Crepes.  John, the food of the gods.  Ambrosia.  Strawberry crepes.  If I ever refuse to eat, just give me strawberry crepes and I'll eat as many as you give me.  And strawberries.  I wonder if I also like strawberry ice cream, do you think I would?  Is it good?"

"Yes it is." John handled Sherlock a napkin. Normally, after such a long case, Sherlock would at least be calming down by now.

Sherlock took the napkin and cleaned himself up the rest of the way, scrubbing furiously at his face.  "We could go get some.  That sounds good.  It was a paying case so we have some money we could probably burn although actually burning it would sort of be a waste because it's not like we get paid _that_ much or _that_ often but if we were really rich I would let you burn our money literally if you wanted to because I love you."

"I love you too." He put an arm around Sherlock and tugged him a bit closer. "Let's just sit for a while, alright?"

He made a happy noise and scooted right into John's side, rubbing his face on his shoulder.  "We can sit.  We can sit for as long as you like except when it gets dark this is not the safest area but if you _really_ want to keep sitting here even then, we could do that but I really don't want you to get hurt and I don't particularly enjoy being shot or stabbed or knifed or shot either."

"Yes, let's avoid all of that. We'll go home in a bit. How does that sound?"

"Home is good.  We could have sex there, at home, because there's a bed there and you know there might be strawberries too and those are _good_ , really good, and would go well with the crepes I just ate do you ever think about chyme?  Can you change the color depending on what you eat if I eat only strawberries would it end up pink or red or some other color completely or does the stomach take away any color before the digested food can get to the intestines you know I solved a case because of chyme once and knowing about chyme see _that_ is practical knowledge not things like gravity who cares about gravity beyond knowing it exists?  Stupid."

Sherlock was still not breathing, and was jittery, and John was worried the smallest thing that sparked his interest would send him running off. So, hoping it would work even when Sherlock was this crazed, he lifted his hand to thread through Sherlock's curls.

Sherlock slumped over onto John's lap.

Thank God. He kept stroking, soothingly.

Sherlock gave a long, soft, low hum, eyelids lowering to half-mast and the world slowing down around him. 

"Love you," John said softly. He didn't particularly care about whatever looks they might be getting. If this could calm Sherlock down, he was going to do it.

"Mmmmloveyoutoo," the consulting lump told John's leg, where his face was smushed.

"My amazing, brilliant man," John said, smiling at him fondly and continuing his light stroke.

Sherlock made a happy noise through his nose.

"You were very impressive today."

"Mhmmmmm."

"Love it when you do that. The moment I see you figure it all out."

If Sherlock were coherent, he would have launched into a speech at that.  His heart swelled.  "Mmm."

"And tonight we can go home. Maybe relax. Watch some telly or even turn in early. What do you think?"

"Chinese," he mumbled.

"We can pick some up on the way. Or order in."

"Sweet n... and sour..."

"Yes, we'll order it in," John decided.

"Egg roll?" he asked hopefully.

"That too."

"Egg roll."  He nodded.

"Yes, egg roll." He continued petting.

"Those.  Mm.  Things they're good."

"Yes they are," John agreed. "Do you want to go home and order them now?"

"Mm-mm!" he hummed aggressively.

"Why not?"

He rubbed his head on John's hand.

"I can't do this all night, though."

He whined.

"My arm might fall off. Then I'd only have one arm."

He whined again.  "No..."

"Then I could do this even less."

"Need your arm to."  He paused for a long time.  "Doctor."

That had made even less sense than normal. "Yes," John agreed simply.

Sherlock sighed happily, curling his toes in his shoes.

"We really should go soon," John said, though he didn't stop petting. "It's starting to get dark."

Sherlock said nothing, nuzzling John's leg.

"You said we should go when it gets dark," John reminded him.

"Mm-mm."

"It's not safe."

"Mm-mm."

"Someone could hurt me."

He whined, stirred.

"Wouldn't want me to get hurt, would you?"

He heaved himself to sitting, holding John's wrist.  He blinked at him dazedly.

John smiled at him. "Hello."

"'Lo," he said, gazing at John, disoriented.

"How are you doing?"

"You were petting me," he said, coming back a bit.

"I was," John agreed.

He nodded dreamily.

"Ready to go home, then?"

"Will you pet me more at home?" he asked immediately.

John smiled.  He leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on Sherlock's temple.  "Yes."

He did.


End file.
